


Drabbles

by itsrainingbooks



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 08:11:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10158353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsrainingbooks/pseuds/itsrainingbooks
Summary: I like to write paragraphs off prompts at 2am and then not do anything to them including editing!Enjoy.





	1. I remember the first time i saw a dead body

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh good old English assignments! This one we had to pick a prompt and I went with "I remember the first time..."  
> there is also a different version of this prompt I started but decided against as it would have blown through the 1000 word limit.

“I remember the first time I saw a body. It's not what I expected. People always say that when you die it looks as if you’re just peacefully asleep, an eternal slumber that consumes all. But it’s not. There's nothing peaceful about it. You’re gone… There's nothing there. The skin goes cold, grey, sallow and you start to decay almost immediately. There is no angel to see you off, no love or protection. You're there, and then you’re not. In an instant your flame is extinguished and all that's left are light wisps of smoke that dissipate without trace. 

I remember the first time I saw that happen. It was so sudden. I didn't know how to react. She was standing just in front of me. We were walking and she was so happy to be out of the house after so long being bed ridden. I remember my hand in hers, so much smaller. Then she was gone, a flame snuffed out, a light bulb blown. 

She was yanked away from me. Twisting my wrist sharply and causing it to break.

I was in shock. The suddenness chilling me to the core. The image of her body being flung over the bonnet of the speeding grey sedan, leaving her twisted, broken and bloody. The vehicle, now dressed with spots of red, hit the wall, crushing, breaking, shattering. The first thing that hit my heightened senses was the screaming, the screaming of passing pedestrians. Parents shielded their children's eyes, Women with their eyes wide, men frozen amidst the chaos. 

There was a hand on my shoulder pulling me away from what was left...from all of the blood and the twist of metal. It was a strong grip that lead me down the street and kept me walking. As we travelled I began to feel pain radiate out from my wrist. With unfocused eyes I glanced down at my purpling skin and noticed her charm bracelet in my hand. It must have snapped when she was... I didn't feel the tears on my face until they hit the bracelet. 

The next time I saw death, tall and consuming, I was twenty-four. I was walking home the same route I had walked a thousand times. My friend and co-worker Carter had decided to walk with me to ‘keep you safe in case anyone tried to jump you on your walk home, the streets can be really dangerous at night.’ We had been flirting for a few weeks and I had a soft spot for him. I shouldn't have. As we walked I glanced up and in the distance saw a large figure roaming towards us. It wasn't until it was only meters away I realised it was the figure of a man, and that he was holding something. I caught glimpse of the gun too late. Raising it, the main fired round after round at Carter. Bullets tore into his chest, ripping the flesh open in small circles.

He fell without ceremony and I collapsed beside him. The ground quickly soaked by the pool of his blood. This time i could feel the tears as they dripped from my eyes. I pressed my shaking hands against the wound, trying to keep the blood in him, but he was gone. Washed away as his blood was the next morning. 

With his task complete the man sloughed and sighed heavily. He looked at peace as he dropped his gun near the body and walked away. I should have picked it up. I should have used it. I should have. But I didn’t.

After that, I gave up. I didn't want to see any more pain, anyone else suffer around me. I shut myself off, both physically and emotionally. If I didn't care about them then it wouldn't matter if they died. If I didn't care then they wouldn't get hurt. 

But that didn’t help, so many others died around me. Drowned, stabbed, crushed, poisoned, hung, suffocated, broken, starved. Everywhere I looked people died, in pain and alone. People I knew, people who were just face in a crowd. I saw so many painful ends… so many numb faces. So much fear in their final moments.

I couldn't take it anymore.

I broke! The moment I did my shattered mind heard whispers. Old and young, they muttered horrible things. They whispered to me, telling me how I let them die. How I did nothing. They burst forth growing louder, deafeningly louder, filling my head to the point of breaking. It was a pounding ache behind my eyes, a wave of nauseous souls screaming “We hate you. We hate you, We hate you”  
In anger I grabbed the nearest thing to me and threw it, it was a glass bowl that shattered on impact with the brick walls of my apartment. Welling up I hesitated a moment before wandering over to the shards and started collecting them.  
“Fool. Idiot. You didn't save us.”

“STOP IT”, I cried, picking up the pieces of glass. With shaky hands a razor-sharp sliver dropped and sliced into my palm. Blood oozed and seeped from the wound and at the sight of it the voices became stilled. 

Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta love English assignments.   
> So this was written for the prompt "I remember the first time..." and so this is what come of it! there was another approach I started but quickly realised would exceed the word limit.


	2. "I remember the first time i saw your grandfather"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the other "I remember the first time..." piece!

I remember the first time I saw your grandfather.

I was 25 at the time, and had been exploring caves and mountains with my parents since I could walk. Living that lifestyle at a young age got me hooked, and as soon as I turned 18 I applied for many jobs where survival skills were a necessary and danger unavoidable. 

 

Then I waited…

 

And waited…

 

And waited…

 

I was sitting on bed, tying and untying knots quickly, and in many complicated patterns, when my mother walked in sitting on the end of my bed.   
“Any replies?”  
“None. It’s fine though right! One will get back to me soon and then I can go have adventures like you and dad do!”  
“Of course sweetie.” She softly ran her hand through my brown mop of hair that somehow always had dirt in it even if the last caving trip was weeks ago.  
“Have you tried (NAME)”  
“(NAME)? What's that?”  
“It's a company that hires people to do the brunt work for scientific studies in remote locations. You know how fragile those doctor types are” She smiled and giggled at her own little joke. “I know it's not what you're looking for but it would look good on your resume”  
I nodded. She was right, although I didn't want to be a pack horse for some science type, it would be good experience for my resume. 

So I e-mailed my resume off to (NAME) and waited yet again. This time however, I got a response. It was long and formal but told me of an interview date and what I would require. So I packed up and headed out. It was a fair drive being on the other side of the county, but I was used to the trips by then. I remember my mother teasing me about becoming a science type after being exposed to them for such a long period of time. I guess in the end she was right.

On the day of my interview, I remember being a nervous wreck. I had already sweated through two shirts before even getting into the facility and mum was getting very annoyed with how much washing this was going to create, and vowed to dump the week's worth on me to wash if I didn't calm down. 

I remember when they called my name, my knees felt weak. But as I always do I put on a brave face, walking through into the office and giving my best smile. Once they got me talking about my skills I eased up, and gave them a fair list of my accreditations. I left feeling I had given what I believe to be a good first impression.

It was amazing how quickly they got back to me. The person on the phone seemed quite cheery when she told me they had an opening on an expedition to Vietnam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one I much cuter. The idea was that protagonist rock climber would meet a very clean and precise scientist and fall head over heals despite them being polar opposites. I still want to use these two characters in something eventually but we shall see.


	3. It could not have happened to someone more deserving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another English assignment.
> 
> I'm beginning to see a pattern here.

The walls are plain white, tall and imposing, yellowed with age and a lack of funding to repaint it. A large wooden table laced with scratch marks separated her from the black door across the room. On her left, a large mirrored double window. When she looks at it all she can see is a relieved face where for years there was weariness and pain. It looks good on her; too bad no one would be able to see it.   
It is then that the cop walked in. He wore what all stereotype detectives wore these days, a white shirt untucked and creased, black pants, loose black suit jacket that didn’t fit him and a loose, thin tie. He walked with purpose and what she could perceive as a bit of snarky arrogance as he sat across from her. 

“So, Adaline Wood, you’re going to be here for a long long time if you don’t tell us what happened. If you do tell us your side of the story we may be able to get you a plea bargain, but that’s entirely up to you.”

“What I did to that man he deserved. I was justified in what I did.”  
The cop opened the file and looked over the information however when he came to the photos he couldn’t keep his eyes on them. The photos too graphic for even him.

“What did he do, in your eyes, to deserve…this,” he gestured to the photos as he talked and spun around the file so she could see it.

“He murdered my family…I was ten years old when it happened. It was just a normal day; I usually walked home from primary school as it was just down the street from my house. It was a nice place I guess, a bit old but….homely. The floor boards were wooden and always use to creek when I walked on them. I lived with my mother Margaret and father Hale, my older brother Jacob, my younger sister Elena, and my grandparents, Kalliope and Isaak. I can't remember much of that time but...I know we were happy. There may have been a lot of people in just one house but...they all loved me so much” 

The woman paused a moment to collect herself from the memories of her past before continuing,

“It was around Christmas when it happened. I was 10. We were all asleep when he struck. The man crept into our home, my room, he tied me up and when I woke up, he put a cloth on my face and I fell asleep again… I don't remember much until the lab…   
The man had grabbed each of my family members and hung us up with chains along a wall. We were in a large warehouse room that was lit by a few spotlights hung up from the ceiling leaving the rest of the room dark. The space was empty, except for a large stainless steel table just in front of where we hung, and from where I was I could see thick leather straps bolted to down onto the metal. I looked over to my sister as she struggled in the chains, clearly panicking.   
‘Shhh it's okay Elena,’ I whispered to her as I tried reaching out to her, trying to calm her despite being panicked myself. I looked over and saw each of my family members hanging up as well, the chains under their arms and around their limbs making movement hard. My brother and father kicked and shuffled, I noticed grandma’s head hung low and she was whispering to herself. My mother was brilliant. She was looking around slowly looking for ways out, always the one to be strong. My grandfather hung there, putting up no struggle and it was now that I noticed how old and worn his face had really gotten.  
It was then that I first heard his voice for the first time. It was deep and very smooth in the way it flowed. It had a soft accent but even now I can't tell what that accent is. A big wicked grin is carved on his face as look over each of us, as if we were just slabs of meat.  
‘What are you doing! let us go!’ My father yelled at the man anger making up most of his tone but there was a bit of fear too and that scared me more than anything else.  
‘Oh I can't do that,’ he hummed out, looking over me with an intensity that I still remember today.”

 

“Those eyes,” the girl hummed out the image of them in her mind, “they were light brown but almost looked golden.. the glowed in the darkness on just cut right through me…”  
The cop just nodded and took notes listening intently.

 

“He then moved to the table and opened a drawer looking through it and humming to himself.  
‘Who first who first, who who who will it be..’  
His head raised to look at me and I remember holding my breath as they cut through me before sliding along to my brother   
‘How about you?’  
‘How about what?’ my brother spat out at him still struggling.  
‘Yes, I don't think I could handle that loud mouth for long.’ The man hummed and walked over to a large pulley system before pulling a lever that started slowly lowering my brother.   
‘What the hell!’ he yelled and thrashed as he steadily approached the ground.   
‘shhh you’ll hurt yourself before i can~’  
The screams of my family rung through my ears don't you dare! if you touch a single hair on his head! not my son!  
he landed and the man unhooked his chains keeping him tied up before carefully walking him to the table as he struggled  
‘let me go!’ he yelled as the man tied down his arms with the restraints and slowly removed the chain. ‘you're a disgusting pig’  
‘thats enough of that’ the man said before pulling a large mallet from the draw and swinging it into my brothers face-”

Her eyes welled up and leaked before she covered her face with her hands and curling up as much as he restraints would allow.

“No more!” she screamed and the cop stood looking pale  
“We can continue this later…” he said low and walked out to make a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reading this back it seems more like a tv show or movie than a story. Maybe this could also be the backstory for an OC....huh.


	4. God Tiers Can't Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god this is old....
> 
> Warnings for suicide attempts

God tiers can't die

God tires were fun. Flying, the time powers, being a hero. But even with these powers after everything was said and done being a god for so long got...boring. Seeing generations die off, watching civilisations rise and fall. Not making any friends with the mortal humans as they turn to ash in a blink of an eye.   
It was horrible after a while.  
Although he still had Rose, Jade, John. and the alpha kids the first century had been hardest. Watching the trolls that they all had grown to love for all their quirks, watching them grow weaker, until they all dropped off was terrifying, there skin growing wrinkled while his stayed the same.  
Karkat was the first to go, as a mutant blood it made sense.   
Dave didn't leave his room for months after the funeral.

After that the rest of the trolls steadily dropped off. Much like dave had locked himself away at Karkat's death rose shut herself off at Kanyas. Becoming a stone wall to everyone who offered her help.   
It was around that time that rose spent most of her time in her lab disappearing for months at a time and returning dishevelled and tired.

He followed her down one time. Wall to wall was lined with sharp blades, deadly poisons and machines designed to kill. Rose was strapped to one and as he ran towards her, the machine fired snapping her neck and killing her instantly. When he pulled her down she woke up and he could have killed her then and there. That's when she explained to him she was looking for the key to kill them. He left her alone after that.

Terezi was next to go. She told him on her deathbed to not be so glum about it and as always he made some ironic pun.   
“H3 wouldn't w4nt to s33 you so down cool k1d...” 

It was after that, he started helping rose in the lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is horribly written I'm so sorry.


	5. Ghoast

It was so pale, soft, torn fabric hanging from its lifeless limbs. Head draped low where it hung, arms drifting at its sides and feet moving softly back and forth. It's hair was long and white draped over its face making it impossible to see what its face looked like. Probably for the best.  
My stomach twisted and sunk as my eyes looked over it. There was a looming sense of dread in the room, a soft creaking from the wooden floors and the sound of wind hissing through the cracks in the walls.   
Taking a step closer I felt tears beading in my eyes. I didn't know this person, I had no emotional attachment to them, so why did I feel like weeping over them? I felt scared, this house this place… it was...wrong. From another room I could hear water dripping and looked up suddenly for the source of the sound and why it had started so suddenly.   
Finding nothing I turned my head back to look up at the body, to find its head upright and looking directly at me.   
It was the eyes. Two white orbs with dark red scars where the pupils should be, the scars cracked out over the eyes like lightning and I was transfixed by them so much that I felt my body lock up and freeze.   
It looked at me and its mouth slowly opened allowing a flow of thick black liquid to pour out of its mouth slowly and glob towards the floor. When it reached the cracked floor boards it slowly started pooling and drifting towards me. However I wasn't looking at the sludge, I was looking at its eyes. I watched as the scars spread causing its eyes to go blood red and emit a soft glow. I was frozen in fear I couldn't move my feet or even let out a terrified scream. I could just stand… and wait.   
Slowly, it lifted off of the hook it hung from and lowered until it was standing in the thick black ooze. A soft growl escaped its lips and I felt the sludge it hit my foot, slow trendles starting to climb my leg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was suppose to be part of a trade off. One person wrote something and the other drew then they would trade and write something about the drawing and draw something about the story. I was the only one to do my half tho but I can see why this is a pretty standard spooky thing. Maybe i'll draw it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooo spookyyyy! The idea was this person would then go on to be the one killing people and seeing blood to keep the voices quiet instead of looking for help. Hey, wait, I have a new character who hears voices of the people she's killed maybe this can be her origin story! The things you find in your summer/spring file clean!


End file.
